


stutter

by sacrebleu0



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: (is it an au??? idk but the arrow family is royalty), M/M, T for strong language, Waltzing, background crow/merita, enemies to friends to lovers but the enemies to friends part happens mostly before this fic starts, ex-titan worshipper gil, fake dating au, gil wearing odins clothes, i think thats enough tags for now, nevy is gils supportive mom, odin is a potty mouth, raven and crow are little shits, royal ball thing, royalty!au, theres only one bed, this is just a glorified oneshot. 15k words of these idiots pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacrebleu0/pseuds/sacrebleu0
Summary: Odin made a horrible mistake when he told Raven and Crow that he had a date for the Season's End ball back on Aedinfell. He didn't have a date, of course. He was too stubborn to admit it, though, so he was forced to find a fake date for the ball in order to maintain what little dignity he had left among his family. Maggie was too abrasive and Ava was too demonic, so the only available option was... Gil Marverde.He was so fucked.--gilodin royalty/fake dating au!





	stutter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Ava's Demon fic, inspired by the Gil's Dream update (the latest update, as of writing this)! I've always loved this pair, but I never felt too inspired to write anything for them until this video update. So, here we are. This ship NEEDS MORE CONTENT, and I'm here to deliver. Enjoy!

**ODIN**

 

When Odin got the call from his sisters, he was sitting on the couch in Gil’s living room. He sat on the end, with Ava in the middle and Maggie on her other side while Gil was in the kitchen making tea. They were watching a movie, but Odin wasn’t particularly paying attention—he was more focused on stealing from the bowl of TITAN-branded popcorn that was being kept warm in Ava’s lap. He felt his pocket begin to vibrate and groaned, pulling his communicator out and checking who made the call. The screen showed a picture of Raven, and he groaned even louder. At least it wasn’t Olai.

“R-Raven’s calling, I’ll be right b-back,” he grumbled, standing and walking into the bathroom to take the call. Once he was alone and closed the door, he hit the “Accept” button. “Wh-What’s up?”

“Hey, nerd!” Raven greeted. “Olai wanted me to call to remind you about the Season’s End ball in two days.” He heard rummaging on the other end, and assumed it was Crow.

“F-Fuck,” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose where his scar was. He completely forgot about the Season’s End celebration. At the end of every season back on Aedinfell, his family threw a huge soirée for the people to celebrate the beginning of a new season. Of course, the last season hadn’t been as prosperous as usual due to the whole sun-being-blown-up-by-TITAN thing, but it was reasonable to continue the tradition and try to maintain any sense of normalcy. Especially since they were still technically the royal family.

His assumption must have been correct, because he heard Crow scoff at that. “Wow, you really forgot? How Odin of you,” she said smugly. “I guess that means you don’t have a date, but that’s predictable. Olai still wanted me to ask, though, just in case a miracle happened.”

Odin’s blood boiled. They always loved to dismiss him, didn’t they?

And then he said it. The thing he was going to regret not two seconds afterwards.

“Who said I don’t have a date?”

He heard only stunned silence on the other line. Fuck. Then, a fit of laughter from both Raven and Crow. “As _if_!” he heard Raven cry.

“There’s no way in hell _you’d_ ever snag a date,” Crow laughed. “You’re old, and you smell bad.”

Odin hoped they could hear him roll his eyes. Sometimes he forgot how young they were… this was not one of those times. “Th-Thanks for that. Well, I do have a date, Crow. You’ll see. At the ball.” He was really digging himself into a hole, wasn’t he? Where was he going to get a date on this short of notice?

He heard Crow take a deep breath to stop her giggles. “I look forward to meeting the lucky lady, then. Olai’s gonna have a _fit_!” Then the line went dead. He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the bathroom and looking at his dumb face in the mirror. He was so fucked.

Next to him, he saw Pedri sitting on the floor and full-body cackling, slamming his huge, ugly fist on the ground. He refused to even say anything, just laughed his horrible, bone-shaking laugh at him. Odin’s eyes narrowed. “D-Don’t you have something better to do?” he muttered, wishing he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth. He took his pipe from his pocket and lit it, looking at himself in the mirror for another minute, contemplating what to do. There was no way he could possibly get a _real_ date in that time span; no, he had to devise some kind of plan.

The gears in Odin’s head finally began to move once he took a few puffs of his pipe and persuaded Pedri to dematerialize. He could just ask one of his friends to pretend to date him for the ball, then feign a dramatic breakup afterward. That way, he wouldn’t have to admit he didn’t have a date, he didn’t have to actually _find_ a date, and he didn’t have to keep up the charade very long. It was practically foolproof. He nodded at himself with determination and took a long puff, finally exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.

Gil had taken his place on the couch, curled up in a ball with his knees to his chest and his cup of tea in his hands. Maggie was adding a spoonful of honey to hers, while Ava was sipping what appeared to be a mug of hot chocolate. He exhaled, a cloud of purple smoke pooling in the air around his mouth to announce his entrance. “Odin, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: don’t smoke in the house. It makes everything smell like smoke,” Gil groaned, his eyebrows knitting together in exasperation.

“S-Sorry,” Odin mumbled, snuffing the pipe and putting it back in his pocket once he was sure he wouldn’t burn himself. He sat in the loveseat next to the couch and leaned forward. “I n-need some help,” he said, forcing his voice to be louder to get their attention.

“Cool,” Maggie said monotonously, turning up the volume on the movie.

Ava snatched the remote and paused it, glaring at Maggie. “What’s the matter, Odin?”

He took a breath and finally spat out, “I-I need a fake d-d-date for this st-stupid ball back home.”

The room was silent for a moment as they processed what he said before Maggie started laughing. “You need a _fake date_?”

Odin nodded begrudgingly, mourning the loss of his pipe. “Y-Yes. I told my sisters I had a d-date for this ball, but I don’t, and the b-ball is in t-two days, so I need one of y-you to pretend to d-date me.”

“That’s just about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard!” cackled Maggie as she clutched her own sides. “Well, I wouldn’t do it if you paid me,” she said, taking a sip of her tea and turning her gaze back to the television.

“I assumed as m-much,” Odin muttered.

“I’d be willing to help, but I think it’d be for the best if I didn’t,” Ava said sheepishly, twirling a piece of fire-red hair around her clawed finger.

“Yeah, you might puke lava everywhere. Or burn the place down,” Maggie added, patting her shoulder affectionately. Ava shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth, refusing to meet Odin’s eyes.

“Th-That’s true. You also look r-r-really young, n-no offense.”

“None taken,” Ava shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with it.”

All the expectant eyes in the room fell on Gil. “G-Gil? I think you’re officially my l-last hope,” Odin stated, looking at him with his best puppy-dog eyes.

Gil looked indignant. “Absolutely not! If your family is anything like you, I’d hate to meet them,” he argued, stirring his tea rather aggressively.

“Y-You’ll barely have to talk to my f-f-family at all! It’ll mostly just be y-you following me around and l-letting me do the talking. It’s kind of like a d-dance slash celebration, s-since t-technically the season is supposed to e-e-end. And b-because we’re kind of r-royalty, we have to go and be social with the p-people of Aedinfell in the form of this d-dumb ball,” he tried to explain as best he could. Aedinfell traditions were kind of hard to explain to people who didn’t grow up with them.

Gil crossed his arms, turning his nose up. “You’re not selling it by saying I have to follow you around, you know.” At that, Maggie snorted, and Ava punched her arm lightly.

Odin sighed. “C-C’mon, Gil. I don’t have any other o-option. If I told C-Crow and Raven that I had a date and I didn’t bring one, I-I-I’d be crucified.” He looked at Gil, having to angle his head ever-so-slightly upwards due to his slouched position and two-inch height deficit. “You’re the only viable option. Maggie’s a b-b-bitch, and Ava is h-half demon and looks barely two s-seasons old,” he pleaded, hoping that he could appeal to Gil’s empathy. When Gil didn’t respond and simply stared at him with a stone-cold lack of emotion in his eyes, Odin was forced to swallow his pride. “...P-Please?” he mumbled, looking askance and half-hoping Gil couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t remember the last time he said please. Hot shame welled up in his throat, and he idly wondered if that was how Ava felt when she coughed up lava.

To his relief, Gil finally relented and rolled his eyes reluctantly. “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll be your stupid fake boyfriend.”

Ava clapped quietly and Maggie whooped before releasing a relieved sigh. “I was really worried I’d have to take one for the team there. Thanks, Gil!” she grinned wolfishly, rubbing Gil’s shoulder over Ava’s back.

Gil just groaned quietly. “Please don’t make me regret this.”

 

**GIL**

 

For TITAN’s sake.

His secret hate-crush really just asked him to fake-date him.

And he agreed. Like an idiot.

As Odin was talking, Nevy had been floating around him, squealing and blowing bubbles happily until the air was filled with them. “Hear that, Gil?” she sang dreamily.

“I, uh, need to go to the bathroom,” Gil excused himself, scampering to the bathroom to talk to her. Once he was alone, he sighed, his heart absolutely racing. Why did he just agree to that? It was going to be absolute _torture_.

On the other hand, Nevy was absolutely overjoyed. She squealed and flapped her arms in glee, kicking her bright pink feet while she floated around the bathroom joyously. “Gil! This is your chance! It’s perfect! Oh, Gil, I can’t _wait_!” Even more bubbles dispersed in the tiny bathroom, drifting lazily through the air not unlike Nevy herself. She uncurled finally from her ball of excitement and stood upright in the air. “You’ll have to let me pick out your outfit, of course. You’ll be absolutely adorable! It’s going to be so romantic, Gil.” She formed a bubble into the shape of a heart, and Gil forced himself to look at her. Her skin was cycling through colors rapidly, as it tended to do when she was excited. Her pupils were shaped like rounded W’s, and her horns were longer and with more branches than usual, looking almost like a pair of branch corals. “You have to ask him out!”

Gil felt kind of bad for popping her literal and metaphorical bubble. He laughed in a mixture of endearment and nervousness. “Nevy, you know I can’t do all that. This is strictly _fake_ dating. Either way, we still kind of hate each other, and I don’t want to make it weird.”

Nevy puffed her cheeks out petulantly and crushed her heart-shaped bubble in her palm. “ _He_ made it weird when he begged you to be his fake boyfriend, Gil.”

He braced his hands on either side of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. The room still stunk of Odin’s Florem Mortem pipe. He watched as Nevy floated into view behind him and placed a pink hand on his shoulder. She had stopped changing colors manically, and now was back to her usual coloration. Her bright, toothy smile faded into a melancholic, maternal upturn of the mouth. She met his gaze in the mirror and laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his chest. “Oh, Gil. I don’t want to force you to do anything, but I also don’t want you to regret _not_ doing something.”

Gil bit the inside of his cheek and looked at her dreamy expression turned worried. “I’ll think about it, Nevy.”

Nevy smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Gil.”

 

**ODIN**

 

The next day, Odin sat across Gil for breakfast. Maggie and Ava must’ve either already eaten or still been sleeping, because they were nowhere to be found. Gil took this opportunity to ask questions about what he signed himself up for.

“Is it just, like, a party, or does it require dancing?” he asked through a mouthful of cereal.

“Both. Prior to the o-official start of the c-c-celebration, p-people just mill about and talk. Once it st-starts, my brother will give a little sp-speech, and then it’s time for the f-festivities. There’s a b-band on stage, and then everyone either d-dances or stands to the side and keeps talking. Typically y-you switch.”

At that, Gil’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Thank TITAN you already know how to dance, that’d be such an _ordeal_!”

Odin coughed sheepishly. “Uh. I-I typically fall in the l-latter group. I n-never learned how to d-d-dance,” he mumbled, feeling himself flush with embarrassment. He refused to look at Gil, making eye contact with the bacon on his plate instead.

Gil groaned and hung his head in his hands. “Of course.”

Odin looked up. “What, d-do you know how to dance?”

“Of course I do!” Gil responded indignantly.

Odin raised an eyebrow and leaned back. “How? I d-don’t think they typically t-teach that in TITAN’s schools.”

Gil blinked, looking anywhere but Odin’s face. “A friend of mine taught me when I was little. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Get up, I’ve got to teach you how to dance.” He stood with great importance, leaving his half-eaten cereal forgotten on the table.

Odin sputtered and stammered. “W-W-What? N-Now?”

Gil looked expectantly down at him. “Yes, now. We’ve only got, what, twenty-four TITAN hours to teach you how? It’ll be a _miracle_ if I can get you to waltz in that little time, even a simple box-step.”

Odin reluctantly stood and faced Gil, shrugging off his jacket. What did he get himself into? He should’ve just gone with Ava or Maggie. Now he’d have to dance in front of not only Olai, Crow, and Raven, but also all the civilians that attended the ball—the thought made anxiety fill his mind like inky black smoke. Speaking of, Pedri had come into vision at some point and was standing behind Gil, leaning against the wall and peering at him. If Odin really strained his ears, he might have been able to hear him mumbling something, but he didn’t particularly care what Pedri thought about this situation.

“So, I’m going to lead and you’re going to follow, alright? First—” Gil began.

Odin’s eyebrows furrowed. “W-Why are you leading? If anything, I-I’m the p-prince. _I_ should be leading.”

Gil frowned. “I’m leading because I know how to waltz, you big baby. Also, I’m taller than you.”

Odin pursed his lips. “Okay, but I’m r-royalty. I have an image to u-upkeep.” Then, he added, “And you’re not th-that much taller.”

“You’re so stubborn, you know that?” Gil groaned, rubbing his temple with his fingers exasperatedly. “I only ever learned how to lead! Following is easier, anyway.”

Odin jutted his chin out defiantly. “I’m leading, Gil.”

Gil ran a hand through snow-white hair and laughed in disbelief. “Really? Are you that egotistical? Is this the hill you’re going to die on? I can still back out, you know. It’ll just be easier on both of us if I lead.”

Odin eyed Gil up and down. He was standing as resistant as ever, arms folded on his chest over his TITAN-issued shirt and sky blue eyes blazing. Honestly, if Odin wasn’t so stubborn himself, he’d admire his steadfastness. He considered just puffing his chest and refusing like he always did, hoping that Gil would relent. But if he didn’t relent, Odin would be absolutely _ruined_. Crow and Raven would never let him live it down, and Olai would never trust him with a mission or information again. His parents would’ve been happy that he had a boyfriend—before everything they were trying to get Olai to settle down, but Olai and settling down mixed like oil and water. Since Odin was the second-oldest, he was their only hope for a marriage until Crow and Raven grew up. But he guessed it didn’t really matter what his parents thought now, did it?

“...F-Fucking fine. Just show me how to d-dance already,” Odin growled.

Gil’s disapproving face unfolded into the wide grin he normally had. “Good! So, first you have to face me and stand with your feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed, modeling the posture for him.

Odin reluctantly obeyed, already sensing that this would be a complete disaster. Really, Odin must have been one of the worst dancers in the universe, not to mention how ridiculously clumsy he was.

“Now, put your left hand on my shoulder and hold my hand in the air with your right.”

This was about to get really uncomfortable, really fast. Odin swallowed and did as he was told, first placing his hand on the top of Gil’s shoulder. He was taken aback by how toned his shoulder felt under his shirt—Gil was lean, but judging by how his shoulder felt, he must have some type of definition. Against his will, he flinched when Gil snaked his hand around to lay on Odin’s shoulder blade with a feather-light touch. “S-Sorry,” Odin mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as Gil took his other hand in his own and lifted it to shoulder-height. The coolness of his fingers surprised Odin, and for some reason the physical contact made him feel a bit lightheaded. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone’s hand. Odin hoped his hand wasn’t clammy.

How was Gil being so nonchalant about this? How was he not freaking out like Odin was? Maybe his family was just weird, but Odin never touched anybody, not even his siblings, unless absolutely necessary. Even shaking hands was rare among the Arrows.

So when Gil easily held him in place, he almost melted.

But Gil continued effortlessly, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Now, I’m going to move my left foot forward, so you have to move your right foot backward,” Gil instructed, half-talking to himself as he mentally reversed the steps for Odin. As Gil slid his foot forward, Odin tried to mirror his movements, making sure to keep a foot of space between them. It wouldn’t look awfully romantic to a bystander, sure, but it would keep him sane at least. (Maybe once he learned the basic steps, he would try to make it look more like a loving couple. If he could stand it.) “Now do the same with... your left foot.”

Odin thought for a moment, mentally picturing the move before he did it so he wouldn’t fall over, then slid his foot back.

“Then make your feet touch.” As he did so, his balance faltered, and he gripped Gil’s hand and shoulder a little harder to catch himself. Gil didn’t seem bothered by it, just smiled encouragingly. Odin grit his teeth and took in Gil’s benign expression. How was he so calm about this? Even though Gil was much colder than Odin (maybe Odin had a warmer body temperature to survive the freezing atmosphere of Aedinfell during Frerinott), his skin felt like it was searing Odin wherever he touched him.

“Now we do the same thing, but backwards.”  With every movement Gil made, Odin made sure there was ample space between them, like a magnet was repelling him. He mentally went through the steps, thinking hard about each and every movement, but he just confused himself and ended up stepping on Gil’s toes through his socks. “Watch where you’re stepping,” Gil reminded him, but didn’t snap or yell. Odin wondered why he wasn’t angrier.

After stepping on his toes twice more, the ever-patient Gil finally got visibly frustrated. “You’re lucky you’re not wearing your boots right now, because I think you would’ve broken my toe by now if you were.”

“N-Not my fault I’m clumsy,” said Odin, looking down at their feet to try and align himself for the umpteenth time.

Gil rolled his eyes in that condescending way he did sometimes. Absolutely infuriating. “You’re not clumsy, you just need to pay more attention to your surroundings.”

  
“I pay p-p-plenty of attention,” Odin grumbled.

Gil left it at that, choosing instead to correct him nonverbally. Odin took a deep breath and decided to get out of his head and just let Gil lead. As much as his bruised ego hated to admit it, he was more experienced and knew better than him, and Odin should probably be taking after him. After falling into step and letting Gil push and pull him, they were able to complete a few boxes in a row with no injury.

“I think you’re finally getting a hang of it, Odin! Obviously, it needs... some work,” Gil emphasized, “but I think that’s serviceable enough, especially for your first time dancing. Let’s do a few more to reinforce it, but I think that’s good enough for right now.”

Odin glowed at the (albeit back-handed) praise. For the last few repetitions, he looked straight ahead at Gil’s chin instead of at their feet, and yet he amazingly didn’t stomp on his toes. Maybe he was getting a hang of it! This wouldn’t be as bad as he thought, certainly—

“Are we interrupting something?” Maggie asked suggestively from her position next to Ava in the doorway.

Odin instantly sprung away from Gil as if burnt, sure he was flushed deep purple. “I-I-I—” he stammered, unable to form a coherent statement.

“Ava and I went for a walk for, what, ten minutes and came back to you two snogging,” Maggie taunted, and Ava burned bright yellow and orange next to her.

“We weren’t snogging!” Gil protested, and Odin looked over at him finally. He was blushing a deep indigo blue, and Odin felt slightly better that he wasn’t the only one embarrassed. “I was teaching him how to dance for the ball.”

Maggie waggled her eyebrows. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“Maggie!” Ava cried, elbowing her side. Odin was pretty sure he disintegrated into a pile of ash on the wooden floor at this point.

 

**GIL**

 

That night, Gil felt a cool hand on the hem of shirt in the bathroom while washing his hands. “Do you have an idea of what you want to wear to the ball? Because I do,” came the singsong voice of Nevy from behind him.

He turned to face her, letting out a deep breath and laughing airily. “I don’t know. I’ve never really had to dress fancy like this before, so... whatever you think is best.”

Nevy beamed at him. “Let me try some things on you,” she stated, placing both her hands on his shoulders and turned him back around to face the mirror. She blew a bubble and waved her hand over his chest. Before his eyes, he saw his shirt change and transmogrify into a shimmering dress under her hand. It almost resembled a bridal dress, long and white and covered in lace and pearls and frills. The sleeves were slightly off-the-shoulder and clung tightly to his arms, coming to a peak at the back of his hand that pointed at his middle finger. A crown of seashells and pearls rested gingerly on his head while some kind of shimmering powder covered his eyelids and cheekbones. “I don’t know how I feel about the wedding look, Nevy,” Gil murmured, looking at himself in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, and it fit nicely, but it was a little... much. He should’ve asked Odin how formal to dress.

Nevy nodded sagely and waved her hand again, and the dress turned into a scaled two-piece bodysuit that looked much more like a wetsuit than a bridal gown. The top part was cropped and long-sleeved, showing off his midriff but covering his arms. The scales were glimmering, changing colors in the light while somehow being fitted tightly to his body. He looked almost like a mermaid, even in the questionable bathroom lighting. “It’s beautiful, Nevy, but not quite formal, I don’t think.”

At that, Nevy sighed in faux frustration, blew a few bubbles, and waved her hand once more. “Picky, picky.” This time, he was in a shirtless ensemble with a sarong around his hips, a crown made from starfish, and a few necklaces with shark teeth around his neck. The sarong was made out of a light blue chiffon-like fabric, and a few twine-like strings adorned his arms and legs. They were tied in knots that reminded Gil of the knots done to tie boats to docks, and some seashells were strung on them like beads. Gil liked this one, but he wasn’t sure about being shirtless while dancing with his fake boyfriend-slash-secret crush in front of a huge crowd of people.

He let Nevy know, and she groaned. “Just... give me something more modest, please. Or maybe more masculine.”

Nevy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re so boring, Gil.”

She finally waved her fingers, and Gil instantly knew this was the best outfit. It was an opalescent suit, colored mostly pastel turquoise save for hints of ocean blue and teal that accentuated his eye color. The suit jacket was sky blue and was covered in white lace and pearls sewn on delicately and with great attention to detail. Under the jacket, he had a white dress shirt with the topmost button undone and a shark tooth necklace in place of a tie. The suit jacket had two long tails that fell behind his knees, and the iridescent teal material that constituted the bulk of the jacket shifted color in the light from blue to green to lilac. The trousers were of the same iridescent material but less detailed in contrast to the jacket. His shoes were white loafers with teal details, and on his head laid a simplistic crown of pearls and small shells with intricate knots woven in. Gil wondered why he had never asked Nevy to dress him before; all the outfits he had tried on, especially the last one, were tailored perfectly to fit him. Maybe he should dress nicely like this more often.

“It looks wonderful, Nevy. It’s perfect.”

Nevy grinned radiantly at him from over his shoulder, smoothing the fabric with her hands. “I know it is.” She pinched his cheek affectionately. “I think the dress was just as handsome, but this will do nicely.”

 

**ODIN**

 

Odin was in the living room buttoning his dark gray overshirt when he heard a ship land in the yard like his did all that time ago (but with noticeably less explosions).

“Th-They’re here,” he called, and Gil ducked his head out of the bathroom.

“Already? You said in fifteen minutes!” he protested. Before he could continue the conversation, Maggie pulled him back into the bathroom where she was grooming and preening him, attacking his hair with gelled hands.

He shrugged on his suit jacket and started fiddling with his cufflinks. “Y-Yeah, I said that f-fifteen minutes ago!” His communicator rang loudly and echoed throughout Gil’s tiny house. Odin patted his pockets and groaned. “F-Fucking hell, where did I l-leave that thing?”

He sprinted through the house, still straightening his sleeves while looking frantically, before Ava tapped his shoulder and handed the device to him. “It was on the counter.” She looked up at him with a somewhat proud look before mussing his hair. “I know it’s rich coming from me, but don’t stress yourself out too much, Odin.”

“Th-Thanks, Ava,” Odin sighed appreciatively before accepting the call.

“We’re at the coordinates you sent,” came the distorted voice of Crow.

“Y-Yeah, I h-heard. We’ll be out in a m-minute.” He balanced the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he slipped on a dress shoe. According to the text Raven sent earlier, his crown and regalia should be on the ship, which made getting ready slightly easier. (He couldn’t count the number of times he forgot his crown to important dinners or royal family events as a kid). “My date’s taking longer than expected.”

“You’re taking just as long!” Gil yelled in self-defense. Odin wondered what he was doing in the bathroom for so long; he hadn’t seen him since he disappeared to get dressed.

“Don’t keep us waiting, or I’ll honk at you!” Raven threatened.

“I don’t think this ship has a horn, Raven,” Crow replied, her voice crackling through the receiver.

Odin hung up and put on his other shoe. “Gil, we have to go, now! I’m sure you look—”

Gil finally exited the bathroom, tugging his arm free from Maggie’s grasp as she yelled something about his hair not sitting right.  It didn’t occur to Odin to ask Gil what outfit he had; he just asked if he had one, and Gil said he did, so he never pried. But holy shit, maybe he should’ve, just to prepare himself for this moment. His mouth went dry and he swallowed as he raked his eyes up and down Gil. He felt like a creep shamelessly checking him out, but who could blame him? Something about Gil looked absolutely ethereal, like a mermaid or siren or angel or something similarly stupid, the analogy part of his brain wasn’t quite working (but then again, neither were any other parts of his brain). Typically his blue-and-white schtick made Odin angry, reminded him of TITAN, but now TITAN was the last thing on his mind. Gil tugged on the bottom of his jacket and looked up at him sheepishly, as if he didn’t know how spectacular he looked.

Something clicked in Odin’s mind, something about Gil, that left the first half of his sentence forgotten. He had never thought of him in _that way_ before, but now it was nigh impossible. He looked absolutely _stunning_ . He had a type of beauty, class, _sophistication_ that no one Odin had ever met before had. He looked infinitely more regal than Odin did, that’s for damned sure. His pastel blue outfit thankfully matched Odin’s dark indigo one perfectly, and would match the cerulean diamonds in his crown as well. His eyes followed Gil’s hands as he nervously tugged at the lapel of his suit, blinking and breathing heavily in the aftermath of his grapple with Maggie. Yet somehow, despite being a mess, he was so put-together, so refined, the crown of thick string hanging on his head so effortlessly and flawlessly.

Odin scratched the back of his neck, sure his face was bright red, and finally remembered that he still needed to finish his sentence. “...F-Fine.”

Gil’s anxious expression turned to a shy one. “Thanks. You too.” Maggie petted his hair one last time and Ava patted Odin’s shoulder before Odin led him outside to where the girls had parked the ship. It wasn’t one of Olai’s old junkers that he rigged to just barely run, like they sent him in that first time; it was one of the Scavenger ships that Olai had actually fully refurbished with Aedinfell materials, like the blue fabric and silver gilt the Arrow family was always clad in. Odin wasn’t sure if he liked the way Gil’s eyes lit up when he entered the ship, like he was surrounded by lavish luxury.

“Oooh, is this your _date_?” asked Raven, breaking any illusion of high class Gil might have had. Crow heard that and twisted around in the driver’s seat, looking Gil up and down with a skeptical expression.

“Y-Yes. His name is G-Gil.”

Gil waved meekly, trying not to squirm under their gaze.

Crow’s eyes narrowed. “You’re way out of his league, you know.”

Gil laughed. “Trust me, I know.” Odin elbowed him.

Crow turned back around in her seat, and the ship jerked and sputtered to life, slowly rising into the air. Once the ship cleared the trees, Crow hit the accelerator and the ship began speeding out of the atmosphere and toward Aedinfell. “If all goes well, the trip should take fifteen minutes at most,” she announced.

Raven took the opportunity to scrutinize Gil and Odin. She was wearing an indigo dress with a dazzling, jewel-encrusted bodice and a huge, poofy, chiffon skirt that fell to her knees. The bishop-cut sleeves of her dress were made of a sheer mesh fabric that bunched at her elbows when she leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands. Sat upon the top of her head was an elaborately detailed silver circlet with a sapphire stone in the middle that matched Crow’s. Next to her, Crow wore a white button-up shirt, an indigo vest with a blue pocket square, and indigo trousers. A blue bowtie sat at the bottom of her neck, and Odin felt warmth in his chest. Ew, was he actually _proud_ of them? Gross.

“How long have you been dating?” Raven asked suddenly.

Oh fuck. It must have been time for her to interrogate Gil, how predictable. Odin was poised to open his mouth, even though he knew he was no good at lying, but before he could answer, Gil said, “It’s been six months now, hasn’t it, Odin?”

Odin paused and simply nodded. He hadn’t expected Gil to be ready so quickly.

“How’d you meet?” inquired Raven, obviously not satisfied.

One Odin could answer without lying. “Well, M-Maggie crashed my ship in Gil’s f-front yard, and the r-rest is history,” he said, refusing to make eye contact with Gil while he spoke. Out of his peripheral vision, though, he could see Gil nod.

“When was your first kiss?” came the next in Raven’s relentless barrage of questions.

“Gross, Raven!” Crow protested from the driver’s seat.

Gil looked at Odin, and to Odin’s surprise, took his hand in his own and intertwined their fingers. “It was actually a dare, before we started dating. Maggie dared me to kiss him as a joke, and I think I surprised him when I actually did it, didn’t I?”

Odin fought the urge to pull his hand away and blush, completely unable to focus on anything due to _Gil_ holding his _hand_. “Yeah, you did,” he finally eked out, blinking rapidly and hoping Raven couldn’t tell he was freaking out. Why was he even freaking out? It was no different than when they practiced dancing yesterday. So then why was he short circuiting again?

“He asked me out not long after,” Gil continued, turning his attention back to Raven.

“Wait, _Odin_ asked _you_ out?” Crow asked over her shoulder.

Odin’s improvisation skills weren’t great, but it would look suspicious if Gil answered everything, so he jumped in. “Yeah. After that, I, uh, realized I liked him and asked him out.” He looked at Gil out of the corner of his eye and saw him looking at him with such affection in his eyes. Between that and their clasped hands resting on Odin’s thigh, it felt so _real_. Odin felt himself begin to sweat and hoped that Gil couldn’t tell.

“Hmmph. What do you even see in him?” Raven muttered, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back in her seat.

Odin began, “R-Rude—”

Gil interrupted him, though, before he could finish his thought. “I know it’s hard for you to believe as his little sister, but he’s very charming. He’s caring, once you get to know him, and self-assured, and surprisingly gentle, and not to mention easy on the eyes.” He rattled them off so quickly and so easily, it was like he had them prepared beforehand. Gil must’ve, because this entire situation was feeling far too real to be comfortable. Odin probably should’ve come prepared, too.

Raven gagged and mimed sticking her finger in her mouth. “Disgusting.”

“We’ll be landing in a few minutes, so prepare yourselves,” Crow announced. “Also, Odin, your crown and stuff should be back there somewhere.”

Odin opened one of the side compartments, and lo and behold, his silver crown, rings, and necklace were waiting in the drawer. He gingerly extracted the crown and placed it on his head, surely going cross-eyed as he tried to center it on his forehead.

“Here,” Gil whispered, turning in his seat to face him and reaching over to align it for him.

Odin shivered, eyes wandering around Gil’s face. “Th-Thanks,” he mumbled, and not a minute later, the ship jerked and shuddered to a halt.

 

**GIL**

 

Once Odin helped him out of the ship, Gil took a moment to take everything in. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were royalty,” he laughed nervously upon seeing the grandiose mansion.

Since they landed on a flat area on one of the roofs, he could see the sprawling expanse of the house and the surrounding area flanked by huge purple pine trees. It resembled Gothic architecture, with high arches and intricate carvings and ornate wrought-iron fences and a huge, sparkling fountain in the center of the courtyard (yeah, there was a _courtyard_ ). The most captivating part, however, was the huge, bisected black hole that hung in the sky where the sun should have been. There were still two small moons in the sky, but they were dwarfed next to the gigantic, sinister black hole. The pines that lined the property and beyond reached for the black hole, tickling the sky with their sprawling branches, but it sat far above them in its hideous glory. Specks of snow or ash drifted through the air, and Gil tugged his jacket tighter around him—it was absolutely freezing.

“C-C’mon, Gil,” Odin called, and Gil followed him into one of the hallways, grateful to be somewhere warm. He heard Raven and Crow chattering idly about something or other, but he was busy being enchanted by the interior of the mansion. The opulence only continued on the inside, with long, indigo rugs made with the hair of no creature Gil had ever seen and dark walls that made Gil feel like he was in a cliche movie about vampires.

How could Gil possibly keep up the charade? Odin was actually capital-R Royalty, people _cared_ about his relationship status, it wasn’t just one awkward dinner with the family. Their faux relationship was already being scrutinized by Raven and Crow, and they hadn’t even joined the ball yet. Gil’s resolve to keep it strictly platonic was fading quickly, too; he slipped up in the ship when Raven asked him what he liked about Odin, but hopefully it made it more believable. Really, the only person Gil was ever allowed to gush to about Odin was Nevy, and it felt almost therapeutic to say it to a real person. But expressing his emotions like that was risky—he needed to be more careful next time. Next time, there would be no spontaneous overflow of emotions that might jeopardize their secret or his sanity.

Odin must have sensed that he was overwhelmed, because he knocked his shoulder into his gently and gave him a faint, reassuring smile. Gil sighed shakily and tried to smile back at him.

After walking for what felt like an eternity through winding hallway after winding hallway, they finally reached a, frankly, ridiculously sized pair of double doors. The sounds of talking and voices and laughter and yelling could be heard from outside, even through the thick wooden doors. Gil wrung his hands together.

“Olai’s already in, apparently, and they’re waiting for us to arrive. Are you ready to make an entrance?” Raven smirked, hands on the door handles and poised to throw the doors open dramatically.

“Always,” Crow replied, adjusting her bowtie. Gil realized that maybe having a flair for the dramatic was in the Arrow family’s blood.

Just before the doors opened, Odin slid his hand around Gil’s much smaller one. It took every inch of Gil’s willpower not to gasp (or swoon). Instead, he bit his lip hard and ran the pad of his thumb over Odin’s many rings, hoping that the rough texture would relax him. The rings were just another facet of the rich exterior he saw Odin take on with his family: at least one for each finger, with thick, silver bands and huge, pointed gemstones in varying shades of blue and purple.

Raven opened the doors, and light flooded Gil’s senses. The cheering deafened him, but he smiled widely and waved sheepishly. Was that what he was supposed to do? Odin wasn’t smiling, but Raven and Crow were. He wished that Odin had given him more of a guide of how to act.

The room was massive and luxurious, like everything else about the Arrow mansion, with giant, sparkling chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, white marble floors, ornate stained-glass windows, and a stage-like structure in the front of the room. The people seemed to mainly have dark hair and pale skin, like Odin, but they were dressed much more utilitarian than he; puffy coats, fur-lined dresses, fluffy earmuffs pulled down around necks, hats, scarves, gloves... and yet none of them removed their thick outer layers in the warmth of the mansion. He remembered Odin mentioning something about there being wars for resources—maybe they didn’t want to risk someone stealing their protection from the cold? Gil was definitely reading into this too much. He was just so used to living on TITAN-owned planets that Aedinfell felt like it was from a different universe entirely.

Raven, Crow, Odin, and Gil walked through the center of the room to get to the stage, and the crowd parted easily to let them through. It was a strange kind of power trip, having hundreds of people cheering for you—maybe this was how Strategos Six felt during a rally. As the cheering began to die down, though, he heard people talking—talking about _him_.

_“Who is he? He’s not royalty.”_

_“Look—he’s with Odin!”_

_“Are they together?”_

_“Are they married?”_

At that, Gil couldn’t suppress a laugh. He was so overwhelmed, but it felt so silly. He squeezed Odin’s hand weakly, searching for any form of comfort, and Odin responded by wrapping his arm around him, holding onto his hip with his hand and pulling him close to his side. Gil felt his face flush dark blue, and he reciprocated the gesture by sneaking his arm around his back as well. Gil was shocked when he looked at him and saw him nonchalantly smirking the smallest amount. He was so at ease, it was like the shy, stuttering Odin Gil knew was gone completely, replaced by super-suave and high-class Prince Odin.

They finally reached the stage after what felt like millennia, and Gil noticed the dark figure in the largest, centermost seat—probably Olai. He had long, dark hair and skin as pale as Odin’s. His eyes, however, were icy blue and vacant instead of deep purple and attentive, and he had the demeanor of a cocky, arrogant young king who presumed the throne too early. He was reclining in the ornately-carved and jewel-inlaid throne like a child who hadn’t yet learned the social mores that accompany occupying the highest rank of the social hierarchy.

Gil’s blood ran cold when he realized that there were six seats onstage. Four were obviously for the Arrow siblings, but who were the other two for? Not their parents, certainly.

“Merita!” Crow cried.

A short girl with too-big round glasses ran up to Crow and threw her arms around her enthusiastically. Her stick-straight strawberry brown hair was swept up into a bun, and her bangs hung over her forehead in a curtain. She was wearing a floor-length gown the same blue as Crow’s tie. She pulled away and—oh. She kissed her on the cheek.

The chairs were for _Gil and Merita._ The dates. Somehow, that both calmed and terrified him.

Odin tugged on him gently, leading him towards the stairs. He wobbily ascended with the help of Odin and followed him to the two seats on Olai’s right. Odin rubbed his hip a little before whispering in his ear, “C-Calm down, and r-remember to play up the c-c-couple thing,” and taking his seat. Gil nodded more to himself than to Odin as he sat next to him, almost finding himself missing the presence of his hand on his hip. As _if_ he could forget “the couple thing.”

Raven sat nearest to Olai on the other side, then Crow, then Merita on the outside. Gil felt his skin crawl at the feeling of so many eyes on him. It didn’t help that his complexion was bright aquamarine blue—a far cry from the people of Aedinfell, who seemed to have very muted, gray-toned skin. He looked at Odin out of his peripheral vision for any sense of familiarity, but he was looking straight ahead at the crowd with a neutral expression. He must’ve done things like this a lot, judging by his unwavering, unaffected expression. He seemed so different as Prince Odin than the Odin Gil knew before. Even his posture had shifted from an inward slouch that made him look inches shorter than he was to shoulders-back, chest puffed, and head up.

Olai stood, and Gil realized he was wearing a type of cloak. It was made of what looked like some type of dark hide and lined with fur, and around his neck was... a wolf pelt? His fingers had just as many rings on them as Odin’s, but his hair was much longer and even more unkempt. To Gil’s surprise, Olai’s crown was much more simplistic than Odin’s, forged from a single piece of silver metal and unmarred by marks or stones. He raised his hands, and immediately the crowd fell silent. “Now that my siblings have finally decided to join us... the time has come for the end of Sumerfrest!”

At that, the crowd erupted into cheers again, making Gil wince slightly at the sudden loud noise. This time, Odin looked over at him and offered him a quick, tight-lipped grin that was gone before he knew it.

Olai raised his ring-covered hands again, and the crowd fell deadly silent once more. Gil admired his control over his people. “Sumerfrest typically brings green, flowers, and excess, but not this season. Ever since TITAN destroyed our sun, Frerinott has not ended,” he spoke, his lip curling into a sneer at the thought of TITAN. Gil flinched at the mention of TITAN; the wounds from defecting were still fresh, and he preferred not to think about it. “Even though these are not typical circumstances, we can still celebrate the beginning of a new season and come together despite hardship as one people of Aedinfell.”

Olai talked for a bit longer, discussing specifics from the past season. Gil was ashamed to admit it, but he zoned out completely. Maybe he was just too overwhelmed with too much information, or maybe his brain was still focused on the ghost of Odin’s hand on his hip, or maybe he was still anxious from the eyes of so many people on him and scrutinizing him. He hadn’t felt like the center of attention since… well, never.

“Now, it is time for the Sumerfrest Season’s End celebration to begin!” Olai announced to the antsy crowd. With the end of the speech came a flourish from the orchestra in the pit, and the music began.

 

**ODIN**

 

Odin took Gil’s hand again—it was getting scary how normal it felt—and led him to the dance floor, which was an empty expanse of the marble floor in the middle of the room. It was so different than he remembered; the last time he went to a Season’s End celebration, it was the end of Frerinott, five TITAN years ago. He was only two seasons and two-fifths, a child, and he didn’t have any idea of what hell Aedinfell would be subjected to in the next season. He did notice that the people, despite their painted-on smiles and festive outfits, were skinnier, more sallow than when he saw them at last Season’s End. However, they seemed to be in high spirits as they began dancing across the floor enthusiastically and chatting jovially.

“Do you remember how to dance, Odin?” Gil asked. Odin wasn’t sure if Gil’s voice sounded flirty or if he was just a narcissist.

“Of c-course.” He lifted Gil’s hand and placed his free hand on Gil’s shoulder like he was instructed the day prior. Was it really only one day ago? It felt like ages.

Gil reciprocated the gesture by snaking his arm around Odin’s shoulder blade and took the first step, looking into Odin’s eyes so _fondly_ , completely devoid of the rivalry or hatred that he used to have when he looked at Odin. He briefly wondered if Gil had ever taken acting classes before. Odin let him push him back, just like they practiced, then to the side, and to his amazement, he didn’t step on Gil’s toes once. He would never admit it, but he was secretly glad that Gil was leading; he never would’ve remembered every individual step individually, but with Gil leading him and guiding him, the dance was much easier.

Behind Gil, Odin saw Pedri leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and all three eyes narrowed. The shadows around him seemed thicker, inkier, like Pedri was conjuring shade out of thin air to show how displeased he was with him. He could already practically hear him grumbling about how undignified dancing was, how _unprincely_ and unfitting for the host of an ages-old demon king like him, especially with someone like Gil, an ex-worshipper of TITAN. Odin shot him a glare from across the room, and Pedri bared his crimson fangs mockingly in response.

Gil noticed, and his feather-white eyebrows knitted together in worry. “Is something wrong?”

Odin’s attention flicked back to Gil. “Oh, no, sorry. It’s just... Olai.”

“I see.” Gil nodded and the tension left his face. “Having siblings must be so frustrating. As a child, I always wished I had a brother or a sister, but now I’m kind of glad I didn’t.”

Odin scoffed. “Yeah. E-Especially when you’re t-the only surviving members of the r-royal family.”

He noticed that the crowd around them had given them space, and he could see the growing anxiety in Gil’s face. He squeezed his hand gently and whispered, “St-Stop worrying so much. Y-You’re f-fine.” Gil finally relaxed some, turning the stiff, formal waltz into a looser, more familiar one, like singing a song he knew by heart. Inexplicably, his right hand was burning a hole through Odin’s suit despite his skin being cool to the touch. For once, Odin let himself be pliant, obedient, malleable, let Gil push and pull him around the floor. It almost felt nice, once he set aside his pride, to relinquish control and let someone else take the reins. As cheesy as it sounded, his heartbeat melded with the steps and the music and the feeling of Gil’s hand in his, and he found that dancing was maybe something he even liked doing. But he hated dancing on his own, he was too clumsy. Maybe he just liked dancing with Gil. (Scratch that, that was a dangerous train of thought he didn’t want to continue.)

But he couldn’t really help thinking about it, because instead of looking at Pedri, he had decided to look at Gil, and _fuck_ . Gil was absolutely angelic, bathed in the chandelier light and the soft music. His blue skin was shimmering—Maggie must have doused him in some type of glitter—like his suit, and his eyes were glimmering like the crystals in Odin’s crown. At first, Odin hated how Gil was two inches taller than him, but now... he kind of liked it, liked having to look up to meet his gaze. He hated his thoughts. He really shouldn’t be thinking like this about his fake (keyword _fake_ ) boyfriend... maybe it’d make his acting more realistic? Method acting. Perfect.

He heard Pedri grumbling about something or other over his shoulder. He really wanted to smoke right now.

 

**GIL**

 

If Gil let himself think about it, though, he could almost imagine that this was a normal occurrence. He could almost imagine that he was really dating Odin, that this wasn’t a dumb lie, that if he wanted to (and he wanted to), he could lean forward right now and kiss him, and he wouldn’t flinch away or yell at him or call him names.

By TITAN, he really had it bad for this idiot, didn’t he?

Nevy materialized then, squealing and floating happily. “Gil! You two are so cute together!” she exclaimed, blowing a stream of bubbles through the air around them. “I can only imagine how happy you are right now,” she sighed dreamily. Her fuchsia hands, feet, and horns were glowing softly, casting a pink shine on Odin’s face, and her navy ringlets of hair floated in the air around her as if she were underwater.

Gil managed to ignore her, keeping his eyes on the rare sight of Odin’s unguarded face. He hoped that she wouldn’t take his silence personally, as she often did. Judging by the mischievous look that came over her face, though, he wouldn’t be getting his wish. Her hand ghosted over Gil’s, and she gently moved it from Odin’s shoulder to his lower back.

“G-Gil?” queried Odin, eyes widening ever so slightly in confusion.

Gil opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. Nevy then nudged Gil closer to him and—

Oh.

She steadied his arms with her tight grip and then he was dropping Odin into a rather deep dip, his crown threatening to clatter to the floor but thankfully clinging to his hair. Odin made a strange sound like a cross between a gasp and a whimper as he let himself get dipped, going limp in Gil’s arms. Gil clung to his dead weight hard because if he dropped Odin right now, he’d never hear the end of it.

Gil was just amazed that Odin trusted him that much.

Gil lifted him back up and spun him around, resuming the waltz position but facing the opposite direction. Once he saw Odin’s surprised expression, his dark, thick eyebrows up in his hairline and his mouth hung open, he began to muster an apologize. “I am so sorry, Odin, I wasn’t thinking—”

Odin blinked rapidly and closed his mouth, a deep purple flush spreading from his neck up to his cheeks and ears. “N-N-N-No. Th-That was f-f-fine. D-Don’t apolog-gize.”

 

**ODIN**

 

It was at this point that Odin realized.

The crowd applauded and whooped, and Gil looked down at Odin with that fond, lovely expression, and Odin smiled back up at Gil, and holy _shit_ . He liked Gil. The puzzle piece had fallen into place, and everything made _sense_ , and that phrase just repeated in his mind over and over again: _I like Gil. I like Gil. I like Gil._ He must be blushing out of his mind.

He heard Pedri scoff. He elected to ignore him.

Then, the song ended, and it was time to switch out. Odin led Gil off the floor, still dizzy from the dip and the mind-shattering discovery, and a few faces he remembered from the last Season’s End clapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him as he walked by. He just nodded numbly and thanked them, focused on keeping Gil at his side as he elbowed through the crowd. They passed Crow and Merita on their way out, and Odin shot Crow a shit-eating smirk while she stuck her tongue out at him. Once they passed the main throng of people, they were able to finally breathe, and Odin dropped his hand.

“That was... a lot, but fun,” Gil announced once they were able to speak.

Odin grinned earnestly. “G-Good. Now it’s time to t-talk to people and act lovey-d-dovey.”

Before he could tell Gil any more, though, none other than Olai approached them in all his fur-lined-cloaked glory. Jackass. “Well, well, well, the tales _are_ true. My insufferable little brother really does have a date,” he drawled through his thick hair covering half his face. Odin always hated how he talked like a poorly-written comic book villain.

Odin rolled his eyes, exasperated already. “Th-Thanks for being an a-asshole as always, Olai.”

Olai sneered and lifted a gemstone-encrusted goblet, probably full of wine or champagne, to his lips. “Anytime.” He took a long sip before eyeing Gil up and down, making him squirm. Odin defensively took his hand, giving Olai a death glare. “Where’re you from, eh, Gilly?”

“I-It’s Gil, and it’s none of your b-business,” Odin spoke coldly. Gil rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb appreciatively, and Odin thought he was about to pass out.

Olai chuckled darkly. “Calm down, Odin, I’m just trying to get to know your mistress some.” He swished his drink around, seemingly deep in thought. “How long have you been dating?”

“Six months, or a tenth of a season,” Odin replied immediately.

“Interesting. And you never told us before this.” He tilted the cup towards Gil. “Want some? It’s Aedinfell’s finest, you _have_ to have some if this is your first time visiting.”

Gil stammered a bit before shaking his head and holding up a hand. “N-No thanks, I don’t...”

Odin’s grip tightened around his and he worked his jaw. He reminded himself that punching Olai would probably be a bad decision.

Olai simply shrugged and drank a bit more. “It’s probably for the best that Odin has a well-adjusted boyfriend to keep him on track. Speaking of, how old are you?”

“I’m nineteen,” Gil supplied.

Olai quirked an eyebrow before looking at Odin. “H-He’s three seasons and four-fifths,” he translated.

At that, Olai laughed. “Who knew little Odin liked older men!”

Odin blushed dark purple for what felt like the millionth time that night. “O-Olai, if you’re just g-going to be a p-p-prick—”

Olai raised his hands as if to show innocence. “Alright, alright. What big brother would I be if I didn’t try to embarrass you in front of your date?” Odin didn’t respond, just furrowed his brow and hoped that Olai would leave them alone. He dropped his gravelly voice low so Gil couldn’t hear and leaned closer to Odin. “Between us, do you really like this kid?”

Odin nodded defiantly. “Y-Yes. I d-d-do.”

His wish was granted when Olai sneered and looked away with his half-lidded, glazed-over eyes. “Well, I’ve business to attend to, citizens to charm, babies to kiss. I’ll be a thorn in your side later, alright?”

“L-Later, Olai.” As soon as he was out of earshot, he mumbled, “A-Asshole.”

Gil raised an eyebrow, thankfully more amused than offended. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

Odin exhaled with as much contempt as possible. “Th-That’s an understatement.”

Gil ran his free hand through his hair. “I can’t imagine having a sibling, let alone having a sibling that I hate. He seems good at talking to people that aren’t his family, though.”

Odin refused to make eye contact with him. “Y-Yeah. He’s a h-horrible cocktail of n-narcissism, Machiavellian tendencies, and c-charm. For some reason, e-everybody who’s not r-related to him likes him. M-Maybe it’s because he k-kind of took over as p-patriarch once our p-parents...” He trailed off, keeping his eyes on Olai as he walked through the crowd, shaking hands and waving at people. “H-He’s absurdly good at r-reading people. He knows e-exactly how to get under p-peoples’ skin. Especially m-m-mine,” he grumbled spitefully.

 

**GIL**

 

Olai was... strange.

He followed Odin around as he talked to seemingly random people. It felt weird, tagging along and not contributing in any meaningful way to the conversations like some sort of trophy wife, but he noticed their reactions. They would all follow the same order of actions: look at Odin, smile, then look at Gil, smile a little less, and their eyes would dart down to where their hands were securely clasped, and their eyes would widen slightly, and then they would smile even bigger. There were a few comments about their relationship, mostly along the lines of “Congratulations!” or “You’ve grown up, so fast, Prince Odin! I remember you at last Season’s End, you were only a child.”

Every once in a while, Gil would look back to the center where he and Odin had danced previously, and he saw Odin’s sister—was this one Raven or Crow?—dancing with that bespectacled girl he saw earlier. She looked so serene, so relaxed.

Gil wasn’t sure how much time passed while talking. Thirty minutes? An hour? Two hours? Either way, after an exhausting period of interacting with people, Olai returned to the stage. He lifted his arms and the crowd immediately silenced like before. “While we have suffered greatly at the hands of TITAN and his misdeeds, I’m proud of our ability to coalesce and rebuild our community during this Season’s End celebration.” He had to wait a few minutes to continue due to the deafening cheering of the audience. He continued talking for a while, emphasizing how proud he was of the Aedinfell people and talking saccharine sweet about how much he loved his planet. Odin stiffened next to him, huffing angrily and exuding resentment. “The ball may be officially over, but our unity—and the celebration—are not. Feel free to continue in the courtyard, but for now, the official ball is over.”

Odin sighed with relief and dragged Gil out of the hall before the mass of people could block their exit. The sound of festivities faded as he led him down winding hallways until he got to what Gil assumed was the heart of the mansion. Once Odin opened the last door, Gil gasped.

The ornately-carved walls and black-and-white tiled floors remained the same, but neon red wires and technology covered the walls and spilled onto the floor. The cords dimly shone with a sinister crimson glow, backlighting Odin’s silhouette next to him, and reminded Gil of something he couldn’t quite place. It transformed the elegant castle-like interior into a scene from a horror movie with a tight budget, and Gil had to resist the urge to touch the wires. “What is all this?”

Odin pulled him away and down another hallway. “O-Olai’s junk.”

They finally reached their location, it seemed; Odin opened one of the doors, and inside was a regal bedroom the size of Gil’s whole house—fit for a prince like Odin. A ludicrously big bed with navy sheets and carved bedposts sat in the center of the west wall, while a large wooden wardrobe with intricately designed doors lay opposite it on the east wall. Two tall windows with heavy purple curtains drawn tight over them adorned the north wall, the one facing Gil and Odin, and a wooden desk that matched the wardrobe sat underneath them. The wallpaper was lavender with floral print, but still somehow managed to look dark and brooding like the rest of the Arrow mansion. A blue and red oriental rug covered the majority of the floor. While it looked like a prince’s room, it didn’t look like Odin’s room, aside from the particularly resilient Florem Mortem plant in the corner that had started to grow on the walls, a stack of heavily-used notebooks strewn on the desk, and his characteristic black jacket (still slashed open in the back—he refused to let Gil sew it up for him) slung on the floor.

“Wow,” Gil muttered under his breath, taking it all in. “This is...”

“O-Obnoxious, I know,” Odin finished for him, shrugging off his princely coat and throwing it on the chair that rested at the desk. Gil resisted the urge to hang it up—didn’t he know that that would make it so wrinkled?

“I was going to say ‘rich,’” Gil corrected him, still standing in the doorway. He was scared that if he breathed, he would break something expensive.

“C-Come in and close the d-door,” Odin said, taking the bejeweled crown off his head and placing it gingerly on top of the notebook stack on the desk.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Gil laughed, watching Odin undo the buttons on his dress shirt and feeling a blush rise to his face. _Think pure thoughts, Gil_.

Now it was Odin’s turn to flush. “N-N-No! I’m just t-t-taking off these st-stuffy l-layers,” he protested, throwing his black dress shirt on the desk as well. Now he was left in his teal high-necked, elbow-length-sleeved undershirt, and Gil’s mind immediately emptied itself of all thoughts. He tried not to stare and failed spectacularly. Turtlenecks should _never_ be attractive, and yet here Odin was, always contradictory.

After taking off his outer layers, Odin flopped on the bed, laying on his back and looking up at the canopy. “I’m so f-fucking tired.” He rubbed his eyes for emphasis, then looked back at Gil. “Y-You can sit down, you know.”

Gil reluctantly sat next to him on the bed, feeling out of place in such a regal room. Odin rolled over so he was on his side, looking up at Gil through long, jet-black eyelashes. “Are you st-staying the night?”

Gil thought for a moment. He hadn’t considered it, but it must’ve been getting late. “I guess. I don’t really think any of you could take a ship out right now, what with the whole afterparty happening outside, and I’m really tired, too. Is it alright if I crash here for the night?”

Odin nodded. “O-Of course. Thanks for d-doing this for me, b-by the way. And sorry ab-bout Olai, he’s a fucking t-tool.”

Gil shrugged. “No problem. This actually wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. I _will_ need something to sleep in, though,” he said, gesturing to the suit he still had on. As comfortable as Nevy made it, it was still quite stuffy by virtue of being a suit.

Odin faux-begrudgingly sat back up and walked over to his wardrobe, digging through his clothes. “Y-You’ll have to borrow mine. We’re p-pretty close in s-size, so hopefully they’ll f-fit.” Gil was glad his back was turned to him, because he was pretty sure he just melted at the fact that he’d be wearing Odin’s clothes. _Stop it, Gil, you’re getting so far ahead of yourself_.

He heard the voice of Nevy in his ear suddenly. “Hear that, Gil? This is so cute!”

“So cute,” he mumbled sarcastically, rubbing his temple with two fingers.

Thankfully, Odin didn’t hear him; he finally retrieved two pairs of sleep clothes from the drawer, closed it with his hip, and threw one on the bed for Gil. Gil half expected some kind of satin pajama set or something equally as luxurious, but they were normal sleeping clothes: a delightfully soft tee for a band Gil didn’t recognize and a pair of purple flannel sweatpants. “I’ll get ch-changed in the bathroom. I’ll be r-right back,” said Odin before leaving Gil alone in the room.

Being alone in Odin’s room made it feel that much bigger, and something about changing in his crush’s room alone felt weird. Despite how stupid it sounded, being naked in Odin’s room felt too vulnerable, so he changed in pieces. First, he slipped off his dress shoes, socks, and trousers before putting on the sweatpants. They were a tad bit short on him and they fit a little big, but they were fine once he tied the string. He then took off his coat and undershirt and threw on Odin’s shirt, and he was immediately taken aback by how much it smelled like _Odin_. Like pine trees and smoke and Florem Mortem and spite and a hint of lavender. The shirt, unlike the sweatpants, fit him loosely—probably because Odin was a lot broader, more muscular, and more filled-out than Gil was. It felt so intimate to be wearing his clothes, like this was some one night stand aftermath, and Gil had to remind himself that they weren’t actually dating, and that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, and that this was just what friends did. Against his instincts, though, he brought the collar of the shirt up and over his nose, taking a deep breath. He felt like a creep, but it smelled so good, so Odin, that he couldn’t resist being selfish. He couldn’t believe he was in Odin’s room, wearing Odin’s clothes, pretending to be Odin’s boyfriend.

His life had gotten really weird in the past two days.

“You g-g-good?” Odin asked from the doorway.

Gil tugged the collar back down immediately, feeling his ears burn deep blue. Oh stars. “Y-Yes! Just, uh, finishing getting dressed,” Gil replied shakily, waves of embarrassment washing over him. Of _course_ he wouldn’t hear the door open. Just his luck, wasn’t it?

Odin smirked and threw the rest of his fancy clothes on top of his desk with the others. He was wearing a plain purple v-neck and gray sweats now, and yet Gil was still amazed by his appearance. TITAN, he had it bad.

He turned to face Gil and leaned back on the desk, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So I realized that we don’t have any guest bedrooms, at least none that are clean enough to be slept in. We’ll probably have to share my bed, which I guess works in our favor anyway because it’ll reinforce the fake relationship. Is that okay with you?”

Nevy drifted into Gil’s vision next to Odin, stroking his face and blowing heart-shaped bubbles. “Of course it’s okay, Odin,” she sang, skin saturating brighter and brighter to the point of glowing.

“That’s fine with me,” Gil said, scooting over so his back was resting on the pillow at the head of the bed. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that he didn’t have to sleep on top of Odin or anything. They would be able to keep their space, and Gil would be able to stay sane. This was fine, surely.

“G-Good,” Odin responded, turning off the lights and climbing into bed next to him. Instantly Gil noticed how he was practically _radiating_ heat. Gil wondered if it was a human thing, because wow. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms, like when they were dancing, so effortlessly and thoughtlessly. He closed his eyes and felt the spectral hand of Nevy caress his hair rhythmically to lull him asleep.

Nevertheless, he slowly drifted into an uneasy slumber.

 

**ODIN**

 

Trying to sleep next to Gil was probably the hardest thing Odin had ever done. He just kept thinking of the revelation he had had earlier in the night—that he actually liked Gil. He had really fucked up this time, hadn’t he? He wished that Maggie could’ve just sucked it up and been his fucking fake date. At least then he could be annoyed or angry rather than romantically frustrated like he was now. He’d never had a boyfriend before, never even _kissed_ anyone before, he didn’t know how dating worked. He couldn’t just tell Gil he liked him, he’d never return his feelings in a million seasons! Maybe this was just his mind tricking itself. Yes, that must have been it—he didn’t _actually_ like Gil, it was just a psychological side effect of pretending to date him! He’d surely feel better, feel _clearer_ in the morning.

It was just a matter of falling asleep.

Which he couldn’t fucking do.

To make matters even worse, Pedri was sat in the corner of the room in his weird squat-thing he always did. (Seriously, why couldn’t he just sit like a normal demon?) His magenta eyes were narrowed like they were during the ball, but this time he was staring right through Odin, like he was looking directly at his soul. Odin resisted the urge to swat away the purple dragonflies that lit up his vision for fear of waking up Gil, who was quietly sleeping next to him.

“You cannot fall in love with him, boy,” came Pedri’s deep rumbling voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Odin grumbled as quietly as possible.

“I’m _serious_ , you insolent peon. I am ordering you to never become romantically involved with him, hear me, boy?” Pedri commanded, his voice shaking Odin to the bones. He remembered when he was young, when Pedri first started haunting him, and he was so confused that no one else could hear his voice. His voice seemed so loud, so unbearably deafening to Odin that there was no way in his mind that someone could _not_ hear him. But now, he was exceedingly good at tuning him out.

The corners of Odin’s mouth fell into a frown. “Trust me, I’m not t-trying to.”

“You lied to him about the guest rooms, you fool!” Pedri roared with rage, his eyes flashing bright scarlet with wrath. “You are trying to engineer a relationship, child, and it is a horrible idea that will surely end in catastrophe.”

Odin furrowed his eyebrows and rolled over in so he couldn’t see Pedri. Okay, he _did_ lie about the guest rooms. But it wasn’t just for romantic gain. There were dozens of guests rooms in the house, but most of them were full of Olai’s scavenger tech, and the closest empty room was on the other side of the mansion. Gil would probably have gotten lost, or lonely, or would have found Olai’s deplorable base of operations if he was left alone. So, really, this was just so he could keep tabs on him.

Really.

...Okay, so maybe Odin’s moral compass was severely out of whack, but he didn’t have much time left being Gil’s fake boyfriend. He might as well savor it while he can, right?

Right?

At least, he _would_ be savoring it if Pedri wasn’t being annoying as all hell.

“L-Leave me a-alone,” Odin hissed, screwing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see Pedri’s purple glow anymore either.

“Listen to me, boy!” Pedri bellowed, and Odin raised his middle finger in his direction. Pedri huffed and he heard the wooden floor shift as he stood to his full almost eight-foot height. “Fine. Sleep well. In the morning, you will renounce your relationship with him.”

He finally fell into a fitful sleep once he felt Pedri’s presence melt away.

 

* * *

 

“Master Odin, breakfast is—oh!”

Odin stirred, taking a deep breath as he slowly gained consciousness. He moved to stretch, but his arms were tangled in something cool and soft. He blinked awake to see Merita in the doorway and Gil in his arms.

His heart rate instantly tripled and his breath was knocked out of his chest. His instinct was to jump away as quickly as possible, but he remembered the fake relationship and stayed put, simply calling to Merita, “W-W-We’ll be out in a s-second.”

“Alright, Master,” Merita squeaked, scampering away and roughly closing the door behind her. He realized what their position implied and winced. He’d have to clear it up with her later.

At the sound of the door slamming, Gil began to stir, too. He and Odin were face-to-face and hugging each other, their legs entwined and their foreheads pressed together. Every breath Odin took was from the same air that Gil breathed. They were so _close_ , so _intimate_ , it sent shivers up and down Odin’s spine. That, when combined with the fact that Gil was wearing his clothes... _fuck_. In his drowsy state, Gil’s grip around Odin’s abdomen tightened and he nuzzled into Odin’s jaw, breath hot on his neck. Odin felt his entire body flush hot, then cold, then hot again. He felt like he was going to pass out, having Gil’s mouth that close to his neck.

Odin thought for a second. Merita was gone, he didn’t have to keep up the act. He could push Gil away, pretend like they hadn’t moved closer in their sleep, and deny anything when Gil woke up.

But he really, really didn’t want to.

So, in a moment of lapsed judgment (weren’t all these moments from the past three days moments of lapsed judgment?), he stayed. He didn’t move his arms away from Gil, he didn’t jump away, he didn’t separate their tangled bodies in bed, he just laid there and let himself take in these last few moments with Gil.

Odin hated himself for being such a selfish bastard.

 

**GIL**

 

When Gil woke up in Odin’s grasp, he thought he was still dreaming. When he realized he wasn’t, he almost started to cry. He took a deep breath—somehow even better than smelling his shirt—and relished his last few minutes as Odin’s fake boyfriend. After this, he’d have to pretend like nothing happened, he’d have to pretend like he hadn’t enjoyed fake-dating him an obscene amount. Like he didn’t love him.

He finally decided that the longer he spent embracing Odin like this, the faster his willpower would wane. So he did at last. He broke away from Odin, moving his arms from around him and leaning up on his elbows. “Good morning,” he yawned, his voice rough from sleep.

Odin moved, too, propping himself up on one elbow to face him and rubbing his still-closed eyes. “Mmnh,” he hummed, a sleepy smile on his face. _TITAN,_ Gil wanted nothing more than to pull his dumb face in and kiss him and drag him back under the covers and say “only five more minutes” and curl his body around his again. But he forced himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed and wake himself up.

“Breakfast sh-should be ready by now,” said Odin groggily, stretching his arms up and over his head. If Gil’s voice was rough from sleep, Odin’s was like a hard-grain sandpaper, scratchy and an octave deeper than normal and, frankly, _too attractive to be legal_. “W-We can give you a ride h-home in one of our sh-ships after breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Gil murmured, still not looking at him. If he looked directly at him, he was scared he would shatter.

He heard Odin stand on the other side of the bed and walk around to Gil’s side, where the door was. “A-Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so _soft_ and _worried_ it made Gil’s chest hurt.

Gil nodded gently, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be even better once I’ve ate, though,” he finally grinned, standing and gaining the strength to look at his face in full. His hair was messy, his shirt was wrinkled, his eyes were still only half-open, but Gil couldn’t help but feel his heart skip. “Do I need to change into normal clothes?” he asked, suddenly hyper aware that he was only wearing pajamas (Odin’s pajamas, no less).

“N-Nah, you’re f-fine.” Odin gestured for Gil to follow him and left the room. He began walking through the winding hallways, and Gil wondered idly how he could have the entire labyrinth-like floorplan memorized. The most disorienting thing about the mansion, though, was how it looked exactly the same in the day as it did during the night, since there was no sun to mark the changes. Gil was so used to seeing heavy beams of sunlight streaming through the windows in his house every morning, it felt strange and alien to not see them.

They finally entered a dining hall, where Olai, Raven, and Crow were already sitting at one end of a long table. Olai was at the end, masquerading as the head of household, and Raven and Crow were next to each other on his left side, like they had sat at the ball last night. On the table were generous piles of breakfast food—eggs and sausages that must’ve been from some huge creatures, extremely long strips of bacon, a pile of toast, and a pitcher of what looked like milk. Odin and Gil took their seats next to Olai and across from Raven and Crow. It reminded him of breakfast just two days ago, before he taught Odin how to waltz.

“Morning,” said Raven through a mouthful of eggs.

“D-Don’t talk with your mouth full, Raven, it’s g-gross,” Odin tutted as he eagerly loaded his plate.

Gil laughed and poured himself a glass of milk. “Good morning.” The lack of sunlight was even more unnerving in the dining hall, given how huge the floor-to-ceiling windows were. Despite the windows, the room was lit by chandeliers like the ones in the dance hall while the black hole hung like a bifurcated period in the sky.

“Merita mentioned you two had an early night and both slept in Odin’s bed,” Olai casually remarked with an uncomfortably accusatory tone, his pale blue eye looking Gil up and down. “And I see he’s wearing your clothes.”

Gil blushed dark blue and his shoulders hunched up to his ears at his implication. Before he could deny it, Odin seethed, “N-N-Nothing h-happened, Olai! C-Can you stop being so d-dirty minded and i-invasive for once?”

Olai simply laughed, obviously delighted at having pushed Odin’s buttons so quickly and easily, and took a bite of sausage. “If you say so. Just remember to wrap it up—”

At that, Crow made a histrionic gagging noise. “C’mon, Olai, I’m trying to eat!”

Olai seemed to revel in the discomfort of everyone at the table. “We’re a family, Crow, it’s important that we are honest with each other and able to recognize the importance of safe sex,” he prodded, leading Odin to flush so dark Gil couldn’t tell if he was beyond livid or beyond humiliated.

Raven plugged her ears with her fingers and started yelling, “I can’t hear you!” over and over, while Crow simply hung her head.

“We didn’t... we didn’t do that!” Gil was finally able to say through a thick layer of mortification.

Olai tilted his head, and Gil could see a thinly-constructed facade of worry fall over his face. “Hmm. Now that I think about it, you two really haven’t been very affectionate for a supposed couple of, what, a tenth of a season? In fact, I don’t know if I can believe that you really _are_ a couple.”

Gil’s lungs were suddenly devoid of air, and his mouth hung open like a fish. Was the jig up? Did he figure them out? He looked over at Odin, and he was fuming, red-hot angry, angrier than Gil had ever seen him. His jaw was set like iron and his eyes were burning coals of fury. Gil spoke finally, because he was scared that Odin would jump over the table and murder Olai if he didn’t. “Of course we’re a couple!”

“Olai, c’mon, don’t do this at breakfast—”

 

**ODIN**

 

Fuck Olai.

Fuck him for knowing exactly how to push every single one of his buttons.

Odin knew he didn’t suspect a thing about their relationship, and Olai knew that he knew that.

Olai knew. He knew how shy Odin was, how he hated physical contact, how he was chronically awkward and was never able to show affection. He just wanted to see Odin squirm, wanted to see him humiliated, wanted to see him furious. He couldn’t let him provoke him like that, he _couldn’t._

Deep breaths, Odin. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him, Odin, he’ll back down soon enough.

Then, Olai said three words that instantly broke Odin’s resolve.

“Then prove it.”

 

**GIL**

 

What could Olai possibly mean by that? “Prove it?” Prove _what_ , exactly?

Gil was about to ask, but he was silenced by Odin’s mouth on his.

 

**ODIN**

 

Holy shit, he was kissing Gil.

 

**GIL**

 

 _Oh my stars_ , Odin was kissing him.

TITAN, _Odin_ was kissing _him_.

Gil forced his eyes to close, to make it seem like this was something that happened regularly, that wasn’t an earth-shattering development, but inside he was absolutely screaming. (Actually, the screaming in his head may have been Nevy.) Odin’s mouth was so warm, so rough, so _perfect_ against Gil’s. Odin didn’t move for a second, but then he was kissing him proper, and Gil’s spine melted. He must be dreaming still, he was sure of it, there was no way Odin was actually kissing him. He tasted of smoke and fire and a little bit like the bacon he just ate, and when he finally pulled away after what felt like both two seconds and two years, Gil found himself begging for more.

That was his first kiss.

His first kiss was with Odin Arrow. In the dining hall of his family’s mansion. During breakfast. In front of his family.

 

**ODIN**

 

Why did he just do that?

Why? Why, why, _why_?

Why did he give into Olai’s goading so easily? Why did he let Olai push him around like that? He just sunk past the point of no return, he waltzed over the line in the sand, he catapulted over his carefully-constructed walls directly into no man’s land. His heart was still in his throat when he pulled away and finally let his eyes flutter open, his gaze flicking from Gil’s lips back to his eyes. He turned to Olai and glared at him. “Is that g-g-good enough f-for you, y-your h-h-highness?”

Behind Olai stood Pedri’s intimidating form, scowling at him, but Pedri was the least of his worries.

Olai scoffed. “Perfect, loverboy.”

Odin stood abruptly, saying, “I need some air. I’ll be b-back in a m-minute.”

As he left, he heard Crow mumble, “Look what you’ve done, Olai.”

He stepped out of the room, down a hallway, and out onto a balcony. He looked out over the courtyard, the violet pine trees, the lavender sky, and the disgusting slashed void that sat in the sky where the sun once did. It was freezing outside, but Odin didn’t care. He was used to it.

He just kissed Gil. What the fuck was he thinking? He just ruined _everything_.

“You directly disobeyed me, boy,” the familiar scolding of Pedri came from behind him. Odin spun around to face his demon. “Do you see now? Do you see why I warned you?”

Odin sighed. “Yeah, y-yeah. Now’s not the t-time, I’m busy writing my own eu-eulogy.” He wished he had his pipe with him. Maybe he should go back to his room and fetch it; he had been so hurried to leave the room that morning, he had forgotten it.

“You must tell him that you do not love him, you hear me?” Pedri commanded, placing a stone-cold hand on Odin’s shoulder.

Odin pushed it off, frowning at him and chewing his bottom lip. “W-Why?”

“Because— _why_ ? Why? Because he is not good for you, child! He will be the death of you, and his Covetess will be the death of _me_!” Pedri roared.

“C-Covetess?” Odin questioned, but the door behind Pedri opened and he faded into liquid shadows.

Gil emerged onto the balcony, immediately crossing his arms to try and retain body heat in the freezing-cold weather of Aedinfell. “My stars, it’s cold out here,” he exclaimed, walking towards Odin slowly as fat snowflakes drifted lazily in the air.

Odin leaned back against the rail, facing Gil reluctantly and sweating despite the cold. Somehow, he felt cornered by him. Gil placed one hand on either side of the rail behind Odin, closing him in. Odin was reminded of Gil’s two-inch height advantage, and swallowed thickly. “That wasn’t just for them, was it?” Gil said. It wasn’t a question.

Odin tried to speak through the lump in his throat. “I don’t like you, Gil. Not like that. I had to prove to Olai—”

Gil took a step closer, so close that the clouds of his breaths were touching Odin’s face and he could feel his warmth. “Don’t lie to me, Odin,” he pleaded, his voice breaking almost sorrowfully.

“Gil, I...” Odin began, but couldn’t finish. He swallowed and tried again. “I’m not lying. I’m sorry, but I don’t like you.”

To Odin’s surprise, Gil smiled, looking at his lips and then at his eyes and then back to his lips. “Y’know, Odin,” he began, one hand reaching up to touch his jaw. Odin shivered at his icy touch made even colder by pressing against the handrail. “I think I know you a little too well, now.”

“D-Do you?” Odin breathed, and he felt Gil lean in to whisper something in his ear. He closed his eyes on instinct.

“Back on the ship, you didn’t stutter when you told Raven you asked me out. You didn’t stutter when you told Olai we had been dating for six months.” His voice was low, rough, and went straight to Odin’s heart.

Then, he said it.

“You don’t stutter when you lie.”

Odin caught his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpered involuntarily. Fuck. He felt Gil pull back from his ear, but he could still feel his breath on his face, so agonizingly close. He opened his eyes, but he couldn’t lift his heavy stare from Gil’s midnight blue mouth. _Please, kiss me. Please, kiss me so I don’t have to kiss you_ , his mind begged over and over until it was all he could think.

Gil’s hand tilted his jaw upwards, and Odin’s mouth opened ever so slightly. He let himself be molded by Gil, just like when they were dancing. He panted, so short of breath, shuddering and shivering and waiting for Gil to just _move already_ and wanting desperately to follow. Finally, finally, _finally_ Gil pressed his lips to his, so much gentler than the first time, so gentle and loving that Odin could have exploded into seafoam under his hands. Gil’s other hand looped around his waist from its position on the rail and pressed firmly against his lower back, holding him close to his body. Odin’s mind short-circuited as he moved his lips lazily against Gil’s, their noses bumping and faces touching.

Odin couldn’t help but lift his hands to Gil’s cheeks, holding his face to his because he never, ever wanted this kiss, this _moment_ to end, he wanted to stand on this balcony and kiss this stupid alien boy forever. He never wanted to wake up and go back to normal, back to just being friends and not fake boyfriends. He felt his facial hair scratch Gil’s face, and he couldn’t bring himself to care because Gil licked his lip and his internal organs began shutting down. Gil pushed and Odin pulled and they were dancing, dancing around each other and with each other and with the eyes of no one watching them. This was only his second kiss—his first being at breakfast—and he was already positive he loved this kissing thing even more than the dancing thing.

Much to his chagrin, Gil finally pulled away to breathe, but he pressed their foreheads together like that morning and sighed. “Was that okay?”

Odin was absolutely flabbergasted that Gil thought there was an iota of a possibility that that wasn’t okay. “T-T-That was d-definitely o-o-okay,” he stammered, smiling like an idiot despite himself. He could already hear Pedri bitching at him, but he didn’t care.

“Are you my real... boyfriend now?” Gil asked, having to pause. He retreated a little more so he could look at Odin’s full face.

Odin’s heart fluttered at the look of pure adoration in his diamond eyes, and he rubbed his thumb on Gil’s cheek. “I-If you w-want me t-t-to be.”

Gil smiled and looked down before gathering the courage to make eye contact with him. “I do. I really, really do.”

Odin kissed him again, and wow, that was never going to get old. He really, really loved this boy, didn’t he?

“Can we go inside now, though? I’m freezing,” Gil complained, shivering for dramatic effect.

Odin chuckled and wrapped an arm around him. “O-Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me/send me asks on tumblr!  
> avas demon blog: @gilsdream  
> main: @bowielesbian  
> Comments & kudos are VERY appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!! <3


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